It's like some monster you turn into
It doesn't take a full moon
Howling
No growing claws or nails
It's the growing of an ego
The changing of the mind
The transformation of attitude towards your life
Towards anything, really.
It's not a loss of control
Not a running rampage
It's the loss of friends, and respect for the world at large
It's the running from problem
Chasing impossibilities
You grow old, and you grow out of yourself
Into a monster.
Into what the world made of you